


Hurt Hands and Halved Sandwiches

by IzzyLightwood



Category: Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Snippet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-24 00:30:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7486182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IzzyLightwood/pseuds/IzzyLightwood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kit supposed he could have refused to accept the offer, the way he had when Julian had suggesting healing him in the car. But he didn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hurt Hands and Halved Sandwiches

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own The Dark Artifices or anything pertaining to this series except my own writing. I published this story on FanFiction as well (as I am teamfreewill82 there), so read this wherever you like.
> 
> A/N: I realized that this was the first Kitty snippet released and I haven’t written around it yet! Blasphemy. So here it is. *smiley

     “You shouldn’t have done that,” Julian said, as if Kit weren’t already aware of this. “You can’t just lash out when you’re upset, Kit. Shadowhunters practice self-control—”  
     “Good thing I’m not a Shadowhunter,” Kit said. It was just snappish enough to make Julian glance over from the drivers’ side in exasperation.

     “You _will_ be,” is all he replied. He was quiet for a few fantastic seconds, then added, “That hand is probably fractured, if not broken. I can heal it with an _iratze_ if you want.”

      “I don’t.”

      Julian huffed out a short breath that sounded like, “Okay then…” and the remainder of the drive back to the Institute was a silent one. When they arrived, Kit immediately got out of the truck and disappeared inside, while Julian gripped the steering wheel, head rested atop his hands. This kid would be his death. He couldn’t expect anything less from a Herondale.

     Kit stalked through the foyer and into the kitchen; he hated using the Blackthorns’ things but was in desperate need of water, and this won out over his hard-head. When he walked in, he saw that Ty was already there cutting a turkey sandwich in half. He looked up at Kit’s entrance, and Kit almost felt as if he’d been caught doing something wrong.

     “How’d your first ‘real-life experience’ in Shadowhunting turn out?” Ty asked him.

     Kit lifted his dominant left hand to brush the loose hair out of his eyes. “Oh, you know… What the kids call Not Good.” He’d only just grazed his forehead when pain that cut through his hand and wrist; he’d unfortunately forgotten about his injury.

     Ty’s focused grey eyes took in Kit’s wince and went to its source. “What happened to your hand?”

     Kit looked down at it, pretending that he hadn’t even noticed the already-bruising scrapes. “Oh. Right.” Kit glanced down at his split knuckles. “I hurt my hand at the Shadow Market.”

     “How?” Ty asked, leaning against the edge of the counter.

     “I punched a board,” Kit said. “I was angry.”

     Ty’s eyebrows went up. He had interesting eyebrows, slightly pointed at the tops, like inverted V’s, and very black. “Did it make you feel better?”

     “No,” Kit admitted. He felt ever so slightly judged, but also slightly impressed that Ty hadn’t pressed the matter any further on _why_ Kit had been angry.

     Ty tilted his head to the side. “I can fix it,” he said, taking one of the Shadowhunters’ magic pencils out of his jeans pocket. _Steles_ , they were called. He held out his hand.

     Kit supposed he could have refused to accept the offer, the way he had when Julian had suggested healing him in the car. But he didn’t. He held his forearm out trustingly, wrist turned upward so the blue veins were exposed to the boy who’d held a knife to his throat not that long ago.

     Kit had hardly been marked; this was maybe one of the first runes he’d ever received. It hurt like a bitch, like Ty were dripping heated black oil onto his wrist. But he tried not to flinch or move away, allowing Ty do finish it.

     When he had, he stepped away and slid the _stele_ back into his pocket. “All better soon.”

     “Thanks… I guess it was kind of stupid of me to break a board.”

     “I’d say so. But your life’s been changed forever; no one can blame you for being angry about it all.” Ty looked down at the sandwich on his plate. He picked up a half and extended it towards Kit. He smiled ever so slightly and accepted it.

     “So uh… any chance I could use the TV?” Kit asked. He flexed his fingers and was only a little surprised to find that his hand hardly hurt at all now.

     “I don’t think anyone would mind,” Ty said, looking amused that Kit had thought to ask first.

     “Great. Thanks for the uh–that healing thing—”

     “ _Iratze_.”

     “Right. And the sandwich. Bye.” Walking out of the kitchen, Kit wanted to smack himself. _Bye_? What an idiot. He glanced back, just for half a second, and saw that Ty was busying himself with getting a glass for orange juice. His white T-shirt rode up ever so slightly as he reached into the cupboard, and Kit stopped.

     “You know what…” he said as he walked back into the room. Ty turned around at the sound of his voice. “…juice actually sounds a lot better than TV right now.”


End file.
